


everything i wanted

by princessoftheworlds



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bubble Bath, Domestic Fluff, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: A lazy morning full of sunshine, a bubble bath, and two horny college students. Seems like the perfect recipe for mindless bliss, except Jack's got a question he's been dying to ask.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	everything i wanted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temporalSilence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporalSilence/gifts).



> This was inspired by the bathtub scene in Benjamin, which I haven't seen but was sent to me by Cait. So thanks to JMH gc on Twitter and the Bloody Torchwood discord. Ironically, I spent all of Saturday working on this instead of studying for finals. Enjoy! (The title's from a Billie Eilish song but has nothing to do with the actual song itself. I just liked the title!)

Sunlight streams freely and copiously through the large windows that take up nearly one wall of the apartment, casting the airy bedroom in a golden glow. There’s a tall coat stand made of mahogany that glints under the light in one corner with a handsome navy coat draped over one side. Mismatched pieces of clothing lie rumpled on the floor, one pair of jeans here, another t-shirt there. And tangled in the sheets of the king bed positioned directly under the sun’s beams, pillows strewn across the hardwood floor, are two young men in their early twenties, both shirtless and curled in towards each other, a perfect pair of parentheses. The older cradles the younger in his arms, their bare legs tangled among the sheets. 

Jack Harkness, dark hair flattened across his head from sleep and blue eyes blinking blearily, is first to wake, stretching his aching limbs in the warmth of the sun and the nest of blankets and sheets. His gaze quickly turns to find his lover lying beside him, and he smiles contentedly, nuzzling closer.

Ianto Jones, a year younger but just a few inches shorter, stirs when Jack tightens the arm around his waist but really only cracks his eyes open to reveal a sliver of his crystalline gaze when the other man cards a gentle hand through the mussed mess of dark curls on his head. “Keep doing that,” he orders in a soft Welsh-tinged baritone, eyes flickering completely open a few moments after Jack’s careful ministrations.

Jack’s smile widens. It’s a Saturday morning, and neither of them have homework, lecture, and anywhere immediately to be. And after a wild Friday night of partying with their friends - sans any alcohol since neither boy wanted to wake up the next morning with a blinding hangover - that ended in explosive sex, he can think of nothing better than lying in bed until noon, warm and satisfied, with his favorite person in the world. Not that he’s told Ianto that yet.

He pulls Ianto in closer and eyes a bite mark darkening spectacularly on his shoulder. Jack’s cock stirs knowing that it was his own mouth that left it there, marking Ianto like that, but he ignores it in favor of pressing a soft kiss to Ianto’s shoulder. Then, just because he can, he follows the curve of Ianto’s broad shoulder to trail soft kisses across his lover’s clavicle and neck, soothing the bites and mouth-shaped bruises he left last night. Despite Ianto’s content sighs and whimpers, he doesn’t stray any lower, because then this might end in blowjob territory; he can feel Ianto’s own growing erection against his hip, and as much as he loves Ianto’s cock -  _ believe him, he does _ , he much rather lay here a bit longer with Ianto in his arms.

It seems, however, that Ianto has different plans. He squirms against Jack when his mouth traces over the ticklish curve of his neck. “This is going to end very messy,” he growls softly when Jack sucks another bruise somewhere just below his Adam’s apple. Ianto’s cock takes even more interest, and he leans over to fumble for the lube bottle resting on Jack’s nightstand and pumps a copious amount into his hand. Then he turns back and with some skillful maneuvering, nudges closer until he can wrap a hand around both his and Jack’s bare cocks.

Jack hisses at the silky feel of Ianto’s cock and long, elegant fingers gliding along his own when those very fingers flick across his sensitive head, causing him to lean over and press his mouth to Ianto’s.

They kiss soft and leisurely as Ianto adjusts his grasp around their cocks, tightening the pressure, and beginning to stroke them in slow but  _ exquisite  _ movements. He even gets a bit experimental with a twist of his hand that causes Jack to whimper a bit into his mouth.

Jack winds up his own hands into Ianto’s hair, clutching at Ianto’s curls gently but with just enough of a rough tug how he knows that Ianto likes it. He drapes his leg higher against Ianto’s upper thigh, relishing in the warmth of their bare skin and slight bit of friction that results from Ianto’s chest hair dragging against his own smooth pecs.

Ianto twists his hand around their cocks again, rubbing his thumb along the vein that protrudes along the slide of Jack’s and listening to the older man sigh. He uses his spare hand to explore Jack’s body, pinching at his nipples, trailing fingers over his hip bones, tugging at one of his balls and then the other, before using said hand to caress Jack’s cheek. 

When their lips part briefly with a soft  _ pop _ , Ianto tenderly rubs his thumb along Jack’s saliva-slick lips. With a characteristic look of distaste, he wipes his thumb against the sheets and strains his head slightly against Jack’s grasp in his hair. 

The older man chuckles at him. “So you object to having slobber on your hands,” he says breathily, “but not to holding our cocks.” He thrusts up into pointedly into Ianto’s grasp, moaning at the sinful sensation, and because he’s Jack, he does it again.

In retaliation, Ianto uses his empty hand to flick a thumb across the head of Jack’s cock again. “Complain,” he warns, “and I’ll let go.” Still, he continues to smile dopily at Jack and only speeds up his masterful strokes.

Smirking, Jack presses a kiss to Ianto’s forehead and then between his eyes, causing him to go momentarily cross-eyed and the pressure over their cocks to briefly lessen. He trails down, licking Ianto’s snub nose playfully, before kissing his lips again briefly. “You wouldn’t,” he says knowingly, and before Ianto can retort, he captures the other man’s mouth.

As Ianto speeds up the motion of his hand, jerking them off frantically, Jack gasps and whimpers into their kiss, dropping one hand from Ianto’s hair to grasp at his shoulder. “Nipples,” he demands, breaking their kiss again. “Almost there.  _ So good _ , Ianto.”

“Greedy bastard,” Ianto replies with a fond tone and reaches up to pinch and tug at Jack’s nipples. 

They continue kissing, and Jack’s hand tightens on Ianto’s shoulder as Ianto squeezes  _ just right _ .

It takes just one more tight, perfect stroke of Ianto’s hand and feeling Ianto’s thick cock sliding against his own until Jack’s teetering on the edge, gasping his growing pleasure into Ianto’s mouth.

This right here, the warmth of Ianto’s mouth, the grip of his hand around both their cocks as he begins to stroke them  _ even faster _ , Ianto’s frantic whimpers, is perfect enough to send him over; this right here is  _ heaven _ . 

_ I love you _ , Jack wants to gasp into Ianto’s mouth as he orgasms, his cum splattering on the sheets between them.

Ianto releases Jack’s cock and continues to jerk himself off furiously to completion, still grunting and sighing against Jack’s lips. His neck arches, allowing Jack to appreciate the corded muscles there that strain when Ianto finally orgams with a shout.

Jack doesn’t remember when he fell in love with Ianto Jones. He remembers encountering the Welshman in the campus library months ago when they’d reached for the same book on queer history and remembers being taken aback by Ianto’s accent. He even remembers when Gwen invited Ianto to their little British group of friends - and despite having grown up in America, Jack’s Scottish roots still counted - and Jack and Ianto ending up making out in a corner before the night was over. He doesn’t remember falling for Ianto - it must have been somewhere after their friends-with-benefits arrangements began but before Owen’s birthday last month, where Jack got possessively handsy with Ianto after the bartender tried to flirt with him, but it feels completely natural. 

“Ugh,” Ianto groans, nose wrinkling adorably as he eyes the mess between them. “You’ll have to wash the sheets again, because I won’t be sleeping in them otherwise.” He sighs. “Maybe I should just go back to mine for tonight.”

Jack rolls his eyes, knowing that there’s no way in hell that Ianto will go back to the campus-run residence hall where he shares an apartment with freshmen. He’s spent most nights in Jack’s apartment, in Jack’s bed, since they started sleeping together. “Why don’t you just move in with me?” he suggests. He actually means it, but of course, Ianto raises a disbelieving eyebrow.

“We both know that you don’t need help paying your rent,” he tells Jack, reminding them both that Jack comes from a family of not-insignificant wealth.

“That’s not what I meant,” Jack grumbles as he worms away from the sticky mess of cum that’s quickly drying against the sheets and on their skin.

“That’s it,” Ianto declares. “It’s time to shower.”

Still naked, they get up and strip Jack’s bed, wrangling the bundle of sheets and blankets into his washing machine. Jack nabs their clothes from the floor and balls them into the machine before adjusting the settings and turning it on. Then he corners Ianto against the wall of the laundry room and tries to kiss him again but is stopped by Ianto raising a hand between them.

“You haven’t brushed your teeth,” Ianto says, scowling in disgust when Jack licks a stripe against his hand. He wipes his hand on Jack’s shoulder.   
  


“You didn’t mind earlier.” Jack chuckles, tugging at Ianto’s hair again and listening to the Welshman hiss. 

“That was before I was fully awake.”

“Ah, nothing like an orgasm to wake you up.” Jack’s eyebrows waggle suggestively, and he dances free from Ianto’s grasp when the other man tries to elbow him. 

“Shower, now,” Ianto insists again. 

Jack shakes his head. “Nope. We’re taking a bath. We don’t have anywhere to be today, and what’s the point of having a bathtub if I never use it?”

The bathroom in Jack's apartment is nearly as large as his bedroom. There’s a shower stall but also a grand clawfoot tub that sits below a large window. Luckily, his apartment is high enough in the building that they can enjoy the view without having to worry about accidentally flashing anyone.

Jack fills the tub with warm water and then, causing Ianto scowl again, adds bubbles until the water is frothy and opaque. 

“Every man should be confident enough in their masculinity to enjoy a bubble bath,” he tells Ianto seriously.

They lower themselves into the tub, leaning against opposite ends; he’s never shared it with anyone before and is immensely grateful that it’s large enough to fit two almost fully grown men. 

Ianto sighs as the water laps against his lower torso. “I didn’t realize how much my body hurt,” he says as he rests his head against the lip of the tub. “We’ve been having too much sex in the last few days.”

“Hey!” Jack holds a stern finger towards Ianto, though the picture is mostly ruined by the fact that both his finger and most of his lower arm is covered in bubbles. “There’s no such thing as  _ too much sex _ .”

The other man chuckles and slips further down into the tub, submerging more of his chest. His legs stretch out to rest in Jack’s lap, and Jack wants to reach down and massage them to relieve more of the stiffness in Ianto’s body, but he also doesn’t want to disrupt the look of quiet content that is resting on Ianto’s handsome features.

Jack’s heart blooms in warmth; he adores Ianto Jones.

“Don’t be startled,” he says, and briefly Ianto’s eyes flicker open in bewilderment before shutting again after he catches a glimpse of Jack reaching for the shampoo bottle. “Straighten up.”

Slowly, Ianto obeys, edging a bit closer to Jack and mindful of the water sloshing against the lip of the bathtub, until they’re face-to-face. This close, Ianto’s eyes are even more beautiful; they resemble the crystal clear water of a lake near Jack’s childhood home. 

Gently, Jack dips a hand in the water between them and sluices bubbles and water into Ianto’s hair until it’s completely damp and plastered to his scalp. He huffs a laugh at the stray bubbles that shine iridescently amongst the dark brown locks. For extra measure, he grabs a handful of bubbles and smears them carefully along Ianto’s jaw. “Look,” he says. “You grew a beard.”

Ianto snorts and washes the beard off before splashing water at Jack. This time, he is uncaring of the water that splashes to the marble floor. “Oops. Try not to slip on the floor in your old age.”

“I’m only a year older,” Jack says and then mercilessly squeezes several pumps of cold, slimy shampoo onto Ianto’s scalp, watching him grimace. He dips a hand into the water and dampens Ianto’s hair a bit more until he reaches two strong hands to Ianto’s hair and begins to lather the shampoo into the dark locks with a gentle but firm massage of his fingers.

Like a cat, Ianto purrs and lightly pushes his head into Jack’s grasp. “This is nice,” he rumbles, his accent thick in his contentment. 

Jack tries not to think about how intimate the act is, how natural it feels to have Ianto’s head cradled in his hands, and his heart flutters. It feels like he’s holding the world in his grasp.

“Well, you deserve nice things,” he tells Ianto truthfully and continues to massage the shampoo into his scalp until it’s reached a lather Jack can work with. With more gentle ministrations, he uses scoops of water to rinse the bubbles from Ianto’s hair until water sluices down the sides of his face. Then he leans back, satisfied with his handiwork, and settles against the lip of the tub, gazing at Ianto quietly.

“ _ What _ ,” Ianto whispers, suddenly hyper-aware under Jack’s gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jack shrugs. “I just like looking at you.” 

The statement is completely genuine, no hint of flirtation or seduction to Jack’s words, and Ianto shivers. “I don’t like this,” he admits. “It feels like you’re up to something.” He sighs. “I don’t like this.”

“Hush,” Jack replies gently. “It’s okay.” They continue to gaze at each other softly until Jack sighs. This moment is too perfect; he wants to preserve it in his memory forever, Ianto soft and pliant and relaxed next to him. There’s only one more thing that could make it more perfect: “I love you.”

Both of Ianto’s eyebrows rise, but there is no sarcasm there in his expression, only slight bewilderment. “Really?”

Jack nods. “Yes, really.” He smiles at Ianto, sighing again. “Would you like to be my boyfriend?”

“Why me?” he asks softly, and once again, Jack is reminded that Ianto is not as secure with himself and his sexuality as he appears to be.

“Because you’re you,” Jack says, “and I love that.” He tries not to let the seconds that pass between them after his reply affect him.

Finally, Ianto leans forward and presses a swift but passionate kiss to Jack’s mouth. When he leans back, he looks slightly dazed. “I hope that gives you your answer.” Then quickly and mischievously, he splashes Jack in the face.

“So was that a yes?” Jack questions after their playflight dies down.

Ianto nods. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Jack’s smile widens, and his heart could burst from his happiness. He laughs slightly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Ianto’s. His eyes flutter shut.

After the water has grown cold, Ianto forces him to rise from the bathtub. They dry themselves off, and then Ianto mops down the floor with their towel. Jack steals another kiss from him as he hangs the towel to dry.

“Ianto Jones,” he says, lips aching from how long they’ve been stretched into a smile. “My boyfriend.” He slips his arms around the Welshman’s waist and nuzzles the length of his neck.

“We’re not having sex again,” Ianto warns as he wiggles free of Jack’s grasp. “I’m hungry.”

They dress in their pajamas since there’s no need to wear proper clothes when they aren’t going outside. There’s only a single slice of bread in the refrigerator, not enough for one person to have brunch, let alone two.

Jack grabs his cell phone. “I’m ordering us lunch.” He ruffles Ianto’s drying hair and watches his boyfriend scowl. “My treat.”

“How generous,” Ianto snarks before frowning at Jack when he takes a seat on the kitchen counter, pressing his phone to his ear. “Don’t sit there. We eat there.”

The other man smirks. “You weren’t saying that when you sat there and I had my mouth on-” His tone changes drastically when the call is answered. “Hi! Are you guys open yet?” 

After the call has ended, Ianto pads over and stands between Jack’s open legs. “What are your plans for today?”

“Well.” Jack smirks. “I was thinking after lunch, I’d fuck you on the couch. Then you can fuck me on the couch.” He looks contemplatively. “And after dinner, we could finish with blowjobs.”

“Romantic,” Ianto says in his signature dry tone. He snakes a hand under Jack’s shirt and rubs along his abdomen. “I agreed to be your boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean I’ll be a cheap date. You have to wine and dine me.”

“Of course,” Jack agrees despite the distracting movements of Ianto’s hand. “Dinner and a movie sound okay?”

Ianto nods, placing both hands on Jack’s shoulders. “Anything would work, as long as it’s with you.” Then he wrinkles his nose. “Well, almost anything. Spending a day with Owen may be a bit too much to ask of me.”

“Owen was never included in my idea of a date,” Jack reassures him. As he leans in to brush a tender hand against Ianto’s cheekbones, Jack’s heart swells. Yes, he doesn’t remember falling in love with Ianto Jones, but being Ianto Jones’s boyfriend feels incredibly right. He can’t wait to walk along campus hand-in-hand with Ianto and make out with him in the library. Not that they already didn’t do the last part.

“Wait.” With wide eyes of realization, Ianto stiffens in his arms, and Jack tries not to feel a bit of alarm. “I forgot to tell you.” He presses a kiss to Jack’s forehead. “I love you, Jack Harkness.”

“You scared me, you bastard,” Jack grumbles. In revenge, he wraps his legs around Ianto’s waist, pulling the Welshman closer, and recaptures his mouth. He shoves one hand down past the elastic of Ianto’s sweats.

“Jack, no.” Ianto makes a sound of protest that quickly morphs into a whimper as Jack begins to smirk at him leisurely. “Fine.” He sighs and nuzzles his head into the crook between Jack’s shoulder and neck, beginning to pant again from Jack’s ministrations. He gasps. “But I’ll be fucking you.”

Jack’s delighted chuckles and Ianto’s gasp of  _ Jack, do that again _ and  _ so good  _ can be heard as Ianto comes for the second time that morning, his toes curling with pleasure. 

If the reason that Jack’s late to answer the door when the delivery person knocks is because moments earlier Ianto had his mouth wrapped around his cock, well, then, it’s nobody’s business but theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik) to let me know how much you liked this fic or request a prompt. Also, please comment or drop a line below even if it's to telling me how you've been doing. I thrive on kudos and social interaction, especially in this day and age.


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